The Dead Girls Club - Damien Angelica Walters Page 0,93

make when you leave here.” Groans all around.

“What kind of changes?” Samantha says, leaning far forward, the points of her elbows on her thighs, fingers beneath her chin.

“That’s what we’re going to figure out. I’m not talking about a full game plan. Think small things, things that might not seem important but can have a big impact.”

She flounces back in her seat.

Willfully obtuse, I’d call her comment. Pushing buttons.

Hannah clears her throat. “What Dr. Cole means is we need to come up with the answers.”

Hannah starts talking again, and I tap my pen on my notebook, letting her voice fade into the background of my mind. I need to come up with a new game plan. No matter who’s doing this to me, if they’re willing to come into my house, to run me off the road, I should be ready for anything. It’s clear they want more than to make me remember. Maybe they want a life for a life. What can I do to stop it? I can watch my back, look over my shoulders, but I can’t do either twenty-four/seven. And what if—

A girl jumps to her feet. A chair thuds on its side. Hands grab. An open palm meets a cheek. A girl curses. Shouts. Another girl shrieks. Like a stop-motion film, each thing happens a little too slow, the whole thing a little too unreal. I blink once, twice. Someone’s calling my name, begging me to help, to stop it.

I stand, notebook sliding to the floor, and the chaos rushes in full-speed. Samantha has Hannah on the floor, knees pinning her in place, slapping and punching and pulling her hair, yelling names every girl and woman knows too well. Hannah’s crying and trying to get away. Abby’s grabbing Samantha’s arms, attempting to pull her free. The other girls are shouting. I push someone out of the way. Grab for Samantha. But she’s an eel coated in olive oil; no matter where I touch, my grip slides right off.

“Get security!” I say to the nearest girl.

It doesn’t take long. It also takes forever. By the time the guard arrives and she successfully peels Samantha off Hannah, the latter’s cheeks are dark red, one eye is swollen shut, and her lower lip is split, the blood running bright down her chin. She seems dazed. All the girls do, except Samantha. She looks triumphant. Smiling with one side of her mouth, blinking like a milk-fed cat. The guard is holding her tight, but she isn’t trying to squirm away. She’s standing as if waiting for a bus and doesn’t look back when the guard leads her out.

The room smells of sweat, musk, and adrenaline. Abby’s by Hannah’s side, and when the nurse comes for her, Abby stays behind, standing like a lost child. The other girls are huddled together on the opposite side of the room, and once I have myself under control, I say, “Everything’s going to be fine.”

One steps forward, looking down at the floor. When she does glance up, it’s in tiny increments, and she says, whisper soft, “Why didn’t you stop her, Dr. Cole? The things she was saying. Why didn’t you make her stop?”

Knives in the gut, those words. I should’ve been paying attention. Yes, it could’ve been so much worse, but it shouldn’t have happened at all. If I’d been doing my job, it wouldn’t have.

From behind me, Nicole says, “Everyone okay?”

My first thought: I hope she didn’t hear what Claire said. My second: I hope Claire doesn’t repeat it. My third: I can’t believe I’m even thinking this way.

“What happened?” Nicole asks.

“Samantha was saying shi—stuff to me,” Abby tells Nicole, “and I guess Dr. Cole didn’t hear her. Then she tried to hit me, and Hannah grabbed her arm and stopped her. Then Samantha just attacked her.”

When Nicole looks at me, I nod my agreement, even though I’m collapsing on the inside. It’s all I can do. I should’ve noticed as soon as things went south. I should’ve stopped them before things got too far. I should’ve sent for security faster. It’s my fault. One thousand percent. And I can see Nicole thinks so, too.

“Girls, we’re going to end the session early, so go ahead to the common areas or to your rooms. I’ll talk to each of you a little later.” To me, she tips her head, and I follow her to her office.

I sit first. Fingers wrapping the armrests, Nicole lowers herself down. Exhales once she gets there and